


Resting Places

by a_little_hazy



Series: simping over my own lore [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Ghostbur, I'll update tags as I go, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Phil is a tired dad and he wants the best for his kids, Piglin Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Resurrected Wilbur Soot, Suicidal characters, Swearing, Wilbur Soot Angst, Wilbur Soot Has a Bad Time, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade are Siblings, Wilbur Soot is Floris | Fundy's Parent, Wilbur Soot is Not Okay, but its for Plot reasons, characters with suicidal idealizations, half-piglin Technoblade, phil doesn't have wings (sadge), wilbur is fucking depressed guys, wilbur needs therapy but there aren't any in the SMP, yknow the bit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27786148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_little_hazy/pseuds/a_little_hazy
Summary: Techno receives a letter from his dad asking him to come into L'manbger and discuss something. Techno, knowing his dad would never ask something like this without reason, agrees. Turns out he grieved for his brother in all the wrong ways.{On a temporary hiatus! Not abandoned, just a small break, don't worry!}
Relationships: Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade
Series: simping over my own lore [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2064108
Comments: 58
Kudos: 569





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to KryOnBlock! Their story I Hate to See You Leaving had some really interesting piglin culture stuff sprinkled in that I couldn't help referencing for this story. Go check them out if you haven't!
> 
> Not 100% sold on this but oh well. We can't win em all

Techno sighs, scanning the latter from Phil again. Phil, apparently, needed to speak with him and trade off some supplies, which would be fine, except for the fact that he would not only have to travel in SMP territory but directly  _ into  _ L'manberg. Both of which he was outlawed in. The letter sounded urgent, though, so Techo couldn't exactly ignore it, especially knowing what kind of a person Phil is.

Techno's messenger owl squawked next to him. He'd long thrown out his communicator after Dream let it slip once that he used them to track players. He didn't want anyone monitoring him. He reached up, scratching at the owl's chest, and it trilled happily. He quickly wrote up a response to Phil, telling him he'd be there soon, and began stocking up on supplies.

The cold didn't bother Techno, not in the way it would for other people. He could see his breath and pry unused doors out of ice, but it never ate at his skin like the heat of the Nether did. He had always felt out of place in the Nether, it was too hot and burned his skin, and the piglins didn't know what to do with him. The cold felt much more like home. He wondered why. It made him powerful in a sense. Sometimes he finds himself hoping that his family,  ~~Wilbur~~ , could've taken comfort in the cold too.

Techno tongued at the gold ring around one of his tusks, a nervous habit he noticed himself doing a lot lately. Wilbur had given it to him when they were kids after Techno had explained that it was a cultural thing for piglins. You were supposed to give them to someone you care a lot about. Wilbur's was the only ring he wore anymore. He had one from Tommy and a few from Phil, but they didn't feel right anymore.

Techno passed the small makeshift grave he had made for Wilbur, surrounded by little trinkets and items, trying not to pay it too much mind. He had already done his grieving. He had already said his share about whatever Wilbur had for him beyond death. He didn't need to say, or think, more. He couldn't.

Techno packed his crossbow and the Axe of Peace, slinging his cloak around his shoulders and securing it into place. He wasn't sure what kind of resistance he was going to be met with, but he had spent far too long meticulously sewing netherite into his cape not to show it off. He fed his animals and sealed up his base before leaving, heading away from his small artic base towards the lands of L'manberg.

_ Wilbur leaned over the back of the couch, peering over Techno's shoulder at the book he was reading. It was some sort of ancient myth or something. _

_ "Hey, Technobalde," he stated, "What's piglins obsession with gold? You're, like, half-human, right? You should be over those kinds of things, yeah?" _

_ Techno scoffed half-heartedly, leaning away from Wilbur in mock disgust, and fiddled with the gold ring he was wearing. "I can't say anything about the obsession, but it's like, a cultural thing." _

_ "Pff, cultural?" _

_ "Wh-yeah! Cultural!" _

_ Wilbur scrambled over the back of the couch, landing gracelessly next to Techno. Techno huffed and scooted away, but there was a smile on his face. _

_ "Yeah, like, gold jewelry is like a really important gift. Piglins don't have the same concept of family, so gifting gold jewelry kind of symbolizes who's really important to you." _

_ Wilbur had nodded and then changed the subject. A week later, he handed Techno the ring. _

It was so much  _ hotter  _ in L'manburg than in the village. Obviously, that was a given; Techno lived in a tundra, but he had forgotten how hot it could get under all his layers without the snow. He would definitely have to dump some stuff on Phil when he arrived.

Finally arriving at L'manberg, Techno had to take a second and scan the area. It was a lot different than before it was all blown up, that's for sure. There was a monument for Schlatt, which Techno thought was odd. All of the buildings were elevated off the crater floor, coming to a little above water level. There was nowhere to hide, either, meaning Techno was in plain sight. What did Phil have that was so important that they had to meet  _ here _ ? Techno could spot at least three wanted posters of him just from standing at the entrance to L'manberg. At least it was the middle of the night.

Techno was trying to quietly navigate through the houses when something made him stop dead in his tracks. It was Wilbur. Except it wasn't. His skin was grey, and he floated instead of walked, and he was seethrough. He had a look at naive innocence Techno hadn't seen since before Wilbur moved out. That wasn't Wilbur. It couldn't be Wilbur. His brother was long gone. It just looked like Wilbur.

"Techno!"  _ Sounded like Wilbur. _

Wilbur jogged over, greeting Techno cheerfully. He began chatting Techno up, asking where he had been and joking about all the wanted posters. Then he started talking about Fundy, and Phil and the recent going ons of L'manberg. Techno was lost. His brain couldn't catch up. By the time he had actually process where he was and who he was talking to, Wilbur had already wandered off to start some menial task.

Techno watched him go. He looked around again, seeing no kind of memorial. I mean, Wilbur was dead. Sure, that might be his ghost, but  _ Wilbur  _ is dead. He might've lost it at the end, but people make statues of war criminals all the time, and from what Wilbur said, it sounded like he basically rebuilt L'maberg log for log. It didn't seem right that Wilbur was being left in the dust of L'manberg history. Isn't that something Schlatt wanted?

"Technoblade!"

Great. Just when Techno got distracted.  _ Tommy _ .

"What are you doing here?" Tommy demanded, marching up to Techno. 

Techno slings his crossbow over his shoulder, turning slightly to Tommy with practiced ease. "That's none of your business."

"I think it is," Tommy says with all the confidence in the world, but Techno sees how Tomy glances at his crossbow anxiously. "Get out." Tommy tries again. "You're a  _ monster _ . You're not welcome here."

Techno chuckles, turning to face Tommy fully. "I'm a monster? Just look at Wilbur."

Tommy raised a brow. "What about Wilbur?"

"He's  _ dead _ , Tommy. I don't see anything to commemorate him around here. He  _ built  _ this nation, but all I see is you've all made a monument for Schlatt, instead."

Tommy tried to say something, but Techno cut him off.

"Did you even give him a funeral!?" Techno demands, and Tommy falters.

"No, we didn't need too; he's still here-"

" _ Look _ at him, Tommy!" Techno grabbed Tommy by the collar and jerked him roughly. "Wilbur is dead! He's gone!  _ That  _ is not Wilbur! It's a fucking  _ sliver _ of who he used to be!"

Tommy struggled to form words, mouth flailing uselessly. Techno sighed, roughly letting Tommy go, who stumbled to the floor. He turned to leave, facing away from Tommy.

"Well, I did. I gave my  _ brother  _ a funeral and a grave, and I prayed to  _ whatever _ the hell above that he could rest easy. You all think I'm a monster, but I think you should do a little self-reflection first." Techo looked back at Tommy, still lying on the ground in shock. "And give  _ my  _ damn brother a place to rest."

It didn't take Techno long to find Phil's home. Tommy didn't try to stop him again, which made things much easier. Entering Phil's house made him feel heavy. Heavy in a way he hasn't let himself feel since he decided to pack up and leave. He found Phil hunched over a pile of books, papers scattered across his desk. Techno's messenger owl was perched in a window and chittered happily when it saw him.

"Phil?" Techno asked quietly, and Phil's attention snapped up.

"Techno, thank god." Phil rushed over and pulled Techno deeper into the small house, blocking off all the windows. "Did you see Wilbur out there?"

"That's not Wilbur," Techno says, with a firmness he rarely uses with his father.

Phil, however, smiles. "But it could be. I found a way, Techno. A way to bring him back."


	2. Old Books

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno and Phil have a conversation, which turns into theories, which turns into a plan. Techno can't bring himself to think about anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd like to apologize to this fic because I was super hyped about it and then I abandoned it. I'm so sorry my poor baby  
> i also wasn't able to get anyone to go over this before posting so :// oops

_ Out of all of his siblings, Wilbur has been the one who tried to understand Techno the most. Even before he... before he met Phil, met Wilbur and joined their little mess of a family. Wilbur was always the one who put in the effort. Wilbur was always the one curious about how Techno was doing and why he did what he does. _

_ Techno doesn't know if it was because Tommy was just too young or if there was too big of an age gap between them. Tommy just never seemed to share the same kind of curiosity or, for lack of a better word, respect for Techno's ways. Wilbur was the one who trailed behind Techno, asking to get inside his head and wondering about "a day in the life of The Blade." Tommy, he never tried to understand the "weird" bits about Techno. _

_ Techno always felt closer to Wilbur because of that. _

"Whoah, whoah. Phil, calm down." Techno grabbed at Phil's hands, which had a firm grip on his shoulders. "You do you mean 'bring him back?' How?"

Phil smiles again, squeezing Techno's shoulders quickly before heading to his pile of books. He snatched one out of the pile, and Techno cringes as several other books tumbled off the desk. Phil flips the books open, quickly skimming through the pages until he finds what he's been looking for. He hands the book to Techno, immediately going back to find another. Techno takes time to look at the page. It seems like a retelling of some sort of ancient ritual, instructions scribbled across the page in something that looks oddly similar to piglin's written language. Techno could probably read this if he tried hard enough.

"Phil... Phil, where did you get all of these things?"

Phil paused, gripping the spine of his book tightly. "I've been doing a lot of traveling," Phil offers. "After my first few days here, I couldn't... stay. So I spent some time in the tundra. To think. And then I started... exploring, I guess. Looking for a way to fix this mess. Temples have a lot of interesting books if you're looking for them."

"What, like desert temples?"

"Some... jungle temples too; if you know where to look. Strongholds, pillager outposts, even bastions."

"God... without your wings, these must've taken forever to find."

"Yeah, it... it gave me plenty of time to think."

Techno looks up to Phil and notices how tired he is, how his shoulders sag with exhaustion, and the bags under his eyes. How he grips the books, he's collected like a lifeline. Techno sighs, setting the book Phil gave him down gently.

"When was the last time you've properly rested?"

Phil gives a sad laugh and rubs at the bridge of his nose. "That doesn't matter right now. I'll rest when this is over. What's important now is that I've found a way to bring Wilbur back. The  _ real  _ Wilbur."

Techno doesn't like how Phil shifts the conversation, but he sighs and relents anyway. Phil is just like him, in the way that if he's determined to get something done, nothing will stop him. Like father, like son, he guesses. "Alright, Phil. Tell me about what you found."

Phil smiles and flips through a few more books, handing them all to Techno. They're all primarily written in the same language, with little scattered bits of what looks like Enchanted Speech.

"I found a ritual that can bring the dead back to life," Phil says. "It works on everything; bodies, spirits... It requires the people participating to give up something precious related to who they're trying to bring back, but I doubt that'll be an issue for either of us. There's a small problem, though." Phil pauses, flipping through a book and skimming the page. "The most crucial thing is an enchanted golden apple. I haven't been able to get my hands on any, seeing as they're quite a rare thing here, and nobody has been willing to give me theirs."

"I have some-" Tecno quickly says. "I've been collecting. Saving them for something important. Have-have as many as you need."

Phil smiles. "Thank you."

Techno feels like they talk for a small eternity after that. They discuss the finer details of the ritual. Other things that are needed, more minor ingredients, and how vital freshness is, where, and who to get it. Techno helps Phil translate a few more challenging passages, slowly but surely closing the gap in what they need to bring Wilbur back. When Techno is finally able to sit back in his chair and take his mind off of the scattered pages and messy lists, the sun was already seeping in through Phil's curtains. His heart sinks a little. Even though he and Phil were talking about bringing back his dead brother, this was the first time Techno had felt content in... he doesn't know how long.

It saddened him, knowing the moment had to end all too soon. But he had to leave. He couldn't chance getting caught here. He couldn't put all of his and Phil's planning at risk like that.

"Phil... I have to get going," Techno says, lowly.

He watches as Phil processes his words, how his smile shrinks and his shoulders hunch forward.

"Yeah..." Phil says, standing. He readjusts his cloak, giving Techno a small, muted smile. "Be safe, okay? I'll send you another letter soon; we can talk about this more later."

Techno nods and slips out the door. He takes a second to adjust himself, swinging the Axe of Peace over his shoulder casually. He takes a step to leave when he suddenly feels an arrow hit his back. It doesn't pierce through the fabric of his cloak, but it definitely would've been fatal. He drops down quickly, loading his crossbow in the blink of an eye, and spins around, aiming with deadly precision only to see... Tommy. Looking slightly horrified, holding an enchanted bow. Techno's finger hesitates on the trigger.

Tommy scrambled away, out of sight behind one of L'manberg's many buildings. Techno stares for a few seconds that seem to grip at his throat before standing, carefully unloading his crossbow and slinging it over his back. Tommy. Tommy tried to shoot him. In the back, no less. A coward's play. Techno took a small breath. He couldn't dwell on this. Can't.

He walks briskly out of L'manberg, shoulders tense and strides long. He locks eyes with himself in a wanted poster and feels nothing but rage. He tears the poster down, writing his own note, pinning it on the board with a dagger. He'd left his mark. He may be absent from this nation, but he will never gone. His words ring out across L'maberg as the citizens all rise and pass the sign.  _ Come and get me _ .

_ Techno arrived home with a tired breath. Everything feels heavy. He looks at Wilbur's grave, decorated with gold and flowers and everything Techno thought Wilbur would like and sighed. Then his eyes slid over to one of his discarded brewing stands and the small box he had tucked away, full of small carving tools. He tongued at the gold ring around his tusk anxiously. Maybe... _ Maybe.


	3. Small Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little rest in the cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah the art of impulsively writing a 1000 word drabble that can be inserted into pretty much any setting like a week ago

Techno's carving tools felt foreign in his hands. It felt so wrong making a ring he knew  _ he  _ was going to be wearing—something that was so deeply rooted as a gift... for himself. It almost felt wrong.

Techno held the ring over the fire of his modified brewing stand, as close as he could get it to the tools he used in the nether, passing it over until the gold became soft again. He began pushing at the sides with the flat end of his tool, making the ring wider. He checked it against the width of his tuck and decided it was wide enough, and left the material to cool.

The heat from the blaze powder crackled softly, filling the otherwise silent house.

The sound of a knock at Techno's door snaps him out of thought. He scrambles to hide all of his tools and brewing stand at least a little, to save himself from at least a little bit of shame.

"Techno?" It's Phil.

The door creaks open.

Techno freezes, halfway through gathering his tools and clutching the ring tightly in his hand. Phil stands in the doorway, looking at his with something akin to concern. Phil takes a second to glance over Techno's workstation before glancing back at Techno, who has turned his head away and hiding in his hair. Techno never hid from him, not anymore.

"Techno?" Phil calls softly. "What are you doing?"

Techno's hand trembles and he hates himself for it. "I'm... I'm making a ring. For myself."

The way Phil softens almost makes Techno cry.

"I j-I just knew no one else would make it for me, and I just wanted something-" Techno has to stop because Phil can definitely hear the way his voice is cracking.

Phil comes over and sits down next to Techno, touching their knees together but leaving enough space for Techno to pull away. His chest hurts when Techno doesn't.

"What's it for?" Phil asks. Techno never really explained in depth the significance of the tusk rings. He just knew they were supposed to be given as gifts and worn as trophies, and they meant  _ a lot _ .

"...the withers," Techno says, finally turning a little towards Phil and rubbing on the ring anxiously. "I thought Wilbur might've made it for me, but..."

"Yeah..." Phil says. "Yeah."

They sit together in silence. Phil doesn't try to move closer, but he wants to. He wants to so bad. "I can... finish it for you if you'd like?" Phil offers, holding his hand out slightly. "I've never worked with gilded blackstone before. It could be fun."

Techno turns and looks at him, and for once, Phil can't tell what he's feeling. There are so many emotions swirling around in Techno's expression, but he knows which one pushes through by the tears that begin spilling from his eyes. Techno puts a hand over his mouth as he hands the ring off to Phil, trying to hide how much his shoulders are shaking.

Phil holds the ring tightly, leaning against his son. "It's alright, mate," he says. "I'll always make these for you. Never feel like you're alone in this."

Techno jerks his head into a nod and leans more of his weight against Phil. Phil was always warm and safe and comfortable. Something that can protect but was worth protecting. Patient. Kind.

"Why don't we go out and chill on the stairs for a little bit?" Phil chuckles. "It's  _ really  _ hot in here, and you can't be doing much better than me."

Techno laughs wetly and hoists himself up, offering a hand to Phil, who takes it with a hearty laugh. Together, they move out to Techno's small porch and take their seats on the first step. Techno sighs into the cold air, watching the steam leave his mouth and disappearing into the sky. The cold air feels oddly pleasing as much as it is chilling in his lungs.

"Tell me about the nether," Phil says out of the blue. Techno casts a look at him. "Like, what you'd call things and such. Only if you want to."

Techno huffed out a small, lighthearted breath and turned his attention to picking at the skin on his hands. "I've always found it odd what you people up here call everything. For me, "hordes" are called-" Techno proceeds to say something deep in his throat that sounds a little raspy that Phil defiantly doesn't have the right vocal cords to recreate. He tries anyway with a chuckle, and Techno has to repeat to a few more times before Phil can get something vaguely close.

"You're, like, pronouncing it with a Brute accent," Techno chuckles.

"Right! Do you know about Bastions and stuff?"

"Yeah, I've... I've seen a few in my day." Techno slowly rotates the golden ring on his finger.

Phil wheezes. "Don't say 'in my day.' I feel so old."

Techno laughs, all in his chest and breathless. It makes Phil smile, knowing how easily he can swap out tears for laughter.

"Alright, alright. What about babies? Up here, we call 'em squeakers, but I'm curious now."

Techno says something equally as bizarre as the word for horde, except this time, significantly higher pitched and a little in the nose. Phil gives it about three tries before giving up.

"Don't worry," Techno laughs. "Squeakers usually struggle with it a bit, too, at first."

"But I'm not a baby!" Phil cries, which makes Techno laugh harder.

Despite the cold, everything feels warm. In the little pocket Phil and Techno have made, there is no war, no exile, no threat of attack. No looks from Tommy or the presence of "Ghostbur," reminding everyone what they've lost. Wilbur's grave wasn't the thing at the front of Techno's mind, for once.

"Hey, Phil," Techno starts casually. "How'd you find me out here? I didn't give you any chords."

"Oh!" Phil chuckles bashfully. "I was getting a little compromised back in L'manberg, so I sort of just... followed your owl here."

Said owl squeaked happily, ruffling her feathers.

Techno makes a somewhat defeated sound, dropping his head into his hands with a smile. "Why didn't I think of that?"

Phil laughed. "To be fair, I had to call her back quite a few times. Probably wouldn't work with someone she doesn't listen to."

Techno chuckled, looking off into the distance. Snow had started to fall, and the sun was setting. It was really beautiful, actually.

"I trust you've kept the important things in your ender chest?" Techno asks.

"Yes. I assume the same for you?"

"You know it. Got all of my enchanted gapples stored away, ready for use."

Phil huffs out a breath, dropping his forehead onto Techno's shoulder. "We're really doing this, aren't we?"

"Well, not before we get ridiculous amounts of glowstone dust-"

"No, no, like... we're really going to bring Wilbur back. We're really planning on this."

"I hope it works..." Techno's words weigh in the air longer than he hoped they would. Phil took a deep breath, moving to sit upright.

"Me too. If it doesn't, I don't... I don't think I could live with the guilt." Phil wrings his hands together anxiously, and Techno turns his full attention to him. "I don't think I could look at Ghostbur every day and see the son I killed. My son, who needed so much help, and I-I couldn't-"

Phil is cut off by tears, which he tries valiantly not to let roll down his cheeks. They still do, but Phil ties anyway. Techno softens a little, hesitating slightly before leaning against Phil's shoulder.

"I know I don't usually... say things like this, but. We'll get through this. Together. Even if it's just..." Techno sighs deeply, closing his eyes and grounding himself. "Even if it's just you and me."

Phil sniffs and chuckles wetly. "Yeah. We will. In time. God, we've entirely switched places, huh? Look at me, crying all over the place."

Techno laughs loudly, and so does Phil. Techno doesn't have the heart to send Phil home, even after the sun sets and the moon bathes the world in a cool glow. Phil doesn't have the heart to leave, either. So he stays, if only for just the night.


	4. The Time Has Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After weeks of work, weeks of preparation, everything is ready. Phil just needs a little time to gather his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK BITCHES!!!!!  
> im................ gonna try not to abandon this fic again while still working on other things.........

Phil sighs, leaning back in his chair. His back  _ aches _ , but he isn't sure if it's because of all the slouching or his newly found lack of wings. He'd gotten quite used to the counterbalance they used to offer. He drags his hands over his face, rubbing his eyes and releasing the tension that he's been holding for the past few hours. Despite this, everything still feels tense, and Phil has to mentally tell himself to unclench his jaw in order to relax even a little.

He looks over his notes, the books and papers strewn all over his desk. Most of them had fallen off the table and spewing all over the floor. He's read every passage, checked his translations again and  _ again _ . Written so much, he'd gone through countless quills and ink stains his skin. He needs this to work. He just-he  _ needs  _ it.

His spine pops uncomfortably as he takes a deep breath. Phil cringes. He misses the satisfying feeling of stretching his wings out, but there's no time to linger on that. What's done is done, and he's  _ here  _ now, in the SMP. He can't go back; he can only go forward. Can only move towards the goals he's set for himself. Phil traces his fingers over his scratchy notes, over the hastily made words from long nights of anxiety and overthinking illuminated only by candlelight.

He prays with every fiber of his being that this ritual will work. He doesn't want to have just… Ghostbur left. Ghostbur isn't bad! He's just… not Wilbur. Not the son he misses. Not the son he had to look in the eyes and kill because he knew his suffering was too great. He was like a deer who had gotten its leg mangled in a trap, infected and bleeding with no hope for survival.

Phil prays he has the bandages, the antibiotics to help now. To cure the infection and set the deer free.

When Phil glances up again, something catches his eyes. He leans forward, looking out his window and squinting. It was Ghostbur, sitting on top of the crane that stands over his sewer. It was early morning, and no one was awake besides Phil, so he was sure Ghostbur was alone. Phil watches him for a second, just sitting there and dangling his legs, and figures that now is as good as a time as any to talk to Ghostbur.

Ghostbur... wasn't Wilbur. But he won't be here for much longer, either -- if things go right, that is. Still, Phil doesn't want him to be sad, no matter how much dread grips his heart whenever he looks at the ghost of his son. He doesn't want all of what Ghostbur remembers him as to be bad. It... it wouldn't sit right with him.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Phil stood from his chair and made his way out of his house. The cool morning air nipped at his skin, making him pull his shawl closer to himself. He ignores the holes cut in the back. Almost silently, from years of caution and sneaking around dangerous mobs, Phil makes his way across New L'manberg. There's one perk to no longer having wings, apparently, which is climbing has become much more manageable. He's able to scale the crane in no time, plopping himself down next to Ghostbur. Said man seems all too happy to see Phil, offering him some blue, which Phil accepts.

They... get to talking. Ghostbur talks about what he can remember, mostly his childhood spent with Phil and Techno. Whatever comes to his mind, really, and Ghostbur is all too happy to share every thought. Phil thinks about how they got here, the two of them. One of them dead, the other with the blood on his hands.

"Phil, you know how I can only remember good things?" Ghostbur asks suddenly.

"Yeah?"

"And you know how I remember you killing me?"

"Yeah," Phil says nervously, licking his lips. Where was Ghostbur taking this?

"Phil, why was I happy to die?"

Phil's world stops. Why was he...?

The dread was back. Phil sighs. "I think… I think you were hurting a lot, and no one saw it." Phil hates this. He hates thinking about his son's death. What he could've done differently. What  _ should've  _ happened instead of what did. "You were in a lot of pain, and maybe you found peace…? In death? Maybe you felt like you got what you deserved. I don't know."

Ghostbur hums and thinks for a second, and Phil doesn't know what to feel when he doesn't say anything. He just turns back to the horizon and starts talking about something so insignificant Phil could barely fathom it. He didn't want to, really. He tried to move on almost as desperately as he tried to cling to this conversation and make his son think it was all nothing more than a bad dream. To hug him tight to his chest and listen to every sorrow. To try to patch things up.

The Nether was hot. The heat was suffocating, and  _ everything  _ was covered in sweat, but Techno made everything more bearable. Glowstone dust covered every inch of their bodies, just as amusing as it is annoying.

"Do you think we got enough?" Phil called from the other side of the chunk they were both perched on.

"I think so," Techno replies after taking a second to count how many pouched he had filled with the dust. "How many bags you got?"

"Sixteen."

"I got twenty. That should be enough!"

Phil nods, and slowly, they descend from the Nethe roof. They had traveled pretty far out to collect from uncontaminated chunks of Glowstons, so the walk back to the portal was long, giving them plenty of time to think. Neither of them spoke, but Phil could feel the tension in the air. They both had been working towards this for  _ weeks _ . To bring back Wilbur, right their wrongs.

It's the middle of the night when they emerge from the community portal. The air is cool, a stark contrast to the humid heat of the Nether. Phil can even see his breath. It makes him smile and think of simpler times.

"I'll meet you at L'manberg," Phil says, bumping Techno with his arm. Techno nods, giving a little salute as he breaks off to move around the SMP lands.

Phil had figured they needed a way to actually sneak Techno in instead of him just arriving where everyone can see. That, and people were growing suspicious of him, and he didn't want to further that by leaving at questionable times with questionable things for everyone to see. So, he installed a secret door into his roof, which Techno can trident into freely using the water at the docks and buckets as needed. The only downside is that Techno would have to follow the same path around Pogtopia, which Techno chooses to ignore as he passes.

It isn't long before a knock comes from Phill's roof, and he quickly opens the door to let Techno in. He drops to the floor with a loud thump, and Phil is glad he lives alone.

For the past few weeks, Phil had converted his top floor to dedicate all of the space to this ritual. Bookcases were pushed as close to the wall as possible, and his desk was tucked in the corner. Everything else has been cleared out, aside from some essential barrels tucked close to the ceiling. That gave them plenty of open space to work. Techno's boots are a loud but steady sound against Phil's floor as they spread out the dust. It was a neat pattern, a large circle surrounded with runes similar to that in enchanting books and written piglin. Phil didn't know what  _ all  _ of them said, only some, and neither did Techno, but they could guess.

Soon, the dust was in place. The runes were drawn, and all extra materials were put away in barrels, neat, tidy, and out of the way. Phil brings out the book he had filled with his notes, setting it in the center of his desk for easy access when  _ everything  _ was ready. They probably only had one chance to do this, considering the sacrifices they had to make, so everything needs to be perfect. No mess-ups, they can't afford it. Not now.

Phil gives a pointer look to Techno, who nods. He leaves to get Ghostbur, careful of any possible breeze that would ruin all their hard work. It takes a long moment for Techno to find Ghostbur, or, well, for Ghostbur to find Techno.

"Oh, Technoblade!" Ghostbur says, appearing out of virtually nowhere. "Do you want some blue?"

Techno jumps, turning around to face Ghostbur. He has his usual smile on, a small chunk of blue dye clutched in his hands.

"Uh, no thanks, Ghostbur," he says. The fact that he and Phil are  _ so close _ is making him antsy.

"But it'll suck up all your sadness!"

"Um… I'm not sad. But thank you."

Ghostbur deflates, letting his face fall into a somewhat focused look. He puts his hand on his chin, humming. "But you are sad. I can see it."

Maybe that's true, but it'll be better soon, Techno's mind urges. "Uh, Ghostbur, could I ask you a favor?"

Ghostbur perks up again, and somehow the blue is gone. "Of course! What do you need?"

"Take this and follow me," Techno instructs, pressing the enchanted golden apple into Ghostbur's hands. Ghostbur looks at it for a second, seemingly memoried by the faint purple hue that washes over the apple before turning his eyes up to Techno. Wordlessly, he leads the way back to Phil's house, climbing up the stairs and moving Ghostbur in place. It's... its time.

_ Techno remembers his first funeral. The delicate chains that connected the rings on his tusks to his earrings. The soft clink they would make when he moved. The special rings he only got to wear for these occasions. He doesn't remember who it was they were sending off, only that they were a fighter. They died defending the bastion. They helped train Techno, too, but that's all he could remember. He was so young. _

_ Carefully, he and his hoard members filed a small boat with the piglin's most prized possessions, placing them delicately around the decorated body. Their jewelry, their sword which had served them well, gifts from every member to set their spirit at ease. They would be remembered; they had all thought. That was the purpose of this; it always was. Techno wishes he could remember now. Desperately. Try as he might to keep the memory of his hoard alive, some things fall through the cracks. _

_ The boat was carved out of warped wood so that it would not burn in the lava. A thin layer of blaze powder was spread along the bottom, and the boat is pushed out into the lava lake. Techno, along with a few others, aim their crossbows, a fire charge connected to each arrow, and shoots into the boat as it floats away. The boat bursts into flame, the blaze power bursting up and slowly fluttering into the Nether fog. The flames practically sparkle with the help of the powder. It's beautiful. _

_ Soon, the small boat will sink and join the rest at the bottom of the lava. The heat will soon have weakened the wood so that it would slowly be released back to the Nether. The harsh, unforgiving environment they all called home. It was important they do this. Techno doesn't remember why anymore, but he wonders if he ever truly did know. It just was. He just knew. _

_ Thinking now about Techno's brother, a man he misses so dearly, he could not bring himself to burn his items and send him off properly. He couldn't part with the few pieces of Wilbur he had left, not yet. For once in his life, Techno was glad that he could not follow this tradition and give his brother a funeral. For once, he was glad to have saved the things that Wilbur had left behind. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhh i have a discord and i love you all mwah  
> please give me all your thoughts i am literally begging you
> 
> https://discord.gg/7VymgKAVWR


	5. A New Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What will it cost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok! i'm going to say this now: PLEASE READ TEH UPDATED TAGS  
> this story gets quite heavy, whoops!!!  
> love you all and stay safe!

Techno quickly ushers Ghostbur inside with a hand on the small of his back. It's strange. Ghostbur's body is cold, and Techno feels like his hand should be wet, but when he takes it away, it's dry. Ghostbur, although confused, floats upstairs with Techno following close behind. He closes off the door to the stairs that Phil has installed. They can't have anything interfering. Ghostbur glances around at the glowstone dust on the ground and the books strewn about, and anxiety visibly grows on his face.

"Techno, Phil, what is this?" Ghostbur asks, wringing his fingers together.

"Eat the apple, Ghostbur," Techno commands.

Hesitantly, Ghostbur complies, absorbing the potion effects as he chews. After that, the room is a flurry of motion. Phil is grabbing things and putting them in place; Techno takes Ghostbur by the shoulders and places him in the middle of the circle, and Ghostbur is left only to watch. Neither of them says a thing as they bustle around the small room.

"Uh, what's going on?" Ghostbur tries again.

"We're beginning you back to life, Wilbur." For the first time, Phil looks up to Ghostbur. He looks pained.

"What? No!" Ghostbur tries to back out of the circle, but Techno stops him. "No! I don't want to come back to life!"

Phil hides his face, and Techno looks away. His grip tightens on Ghostbur for a moment before they're off again.

"People--people hated Alivebur!" Ghostbur pleads. "Phil says he was in pain! I-I can't feel the pain now, please-"

"Wil,  _ please _ ," Phil says, whipping around to face Ghostbur. Tears are welling up in his eyes, and Ghostbur is sure if Phil even  _ blinks _ , they'll overflow and spill down his cheeks. "Please just stand in the circle, Wil."

Hesitantly, Ghostbur nods. He doesn't want to come back, but he doesn't want to make anyone else sad. He's been doing that so much lately with Fundy, Tommy... Niki. Everyone in L'manberg has managed to bring up  _ something  _ he can't remember. If he can keep himself from hurting Phil, he'll do it.

Phil quickly nods, turning around and picking up a book and... a knife. Ghostbur shrunk back. What were they going to do?

Phil flips open his book, skimming the words quickly. He and Techno share a look and a quick nod before Phil takes a deep breath. Loudly, he begins reading out from the book. It's a language that Ghostbur can't understand, coming from the back of Phil's throat. It sounds almost unnatural.

Around Ghostbur, the dust begins to glow. It's faint, but it reflects easily off of his translucent body. Small runes begin floating up from the glowstone dust, looking much like the kinds that float around enchantment tables and whisper things in Ghostbur's ears.

Phil glances to Techno. It was time for them to give up their sacrifices, and Phil found himself a little anxious. This was a  _ sacrifice _ ; something was near and dear to them that they won't be able to get back once it's gone. Techno thought about his. It was his hair; Wilbur had always loved to play with it and find new, intricate ways to style it before he left home. It made him think of Wilbur, of his family, but it was so much more than that. It made him think of his hoard, his time in the Nether. The way squeakers would be calmed by it. The way his hoard would decorate it. It was... It was his whole past. But Techno knew with everything in his heart that he would give it all up for Wilbur.

Phil closes the book, shifting his knife in his hands. He hands the blade to Techno, who quickly gathers his hair.

"A sacrifice from the present," Phil says, and Techno squeezes his eyes shut and slices off his hair. Ghostbur gasped;  _ he remembered loving it whenever Techno let him decorate his hair when they were young _ .

"And one from the past." Phil pulls out a feather, distinctly one of his own. Techno furrows his brow. Sacrifice from the  _ past _ ?

"Phil, what-" Techno started but... The look in Phil's eyes made him pause. This wasn't the time for a conversation like that. The grief in Phil's eyes goes much farther than just his son.

Phil's spine  _ aches  _ as he drops his feather onto the rune in front of him. As soon as it touches the glowing dust on the floor, it shrivels up and burns away, leaving only ash amongst the shining dust. Techno follows Phil's lead, gripping the chunk of hair he sliced off. He gives a shaky sigh, saying a quick goodbye to everything his hair meant to him, and dropped it into the dust. Just like Phil's feather, it burned away, leaving only ash.

Phil touched Techno's arm gently, a small comfort, before continuing. He flipped open the book to a new page and began to read a passage from it. The dust started to glow brighter, and Ghostbur could feel the effects of the enchanted golden apple seeping deeper and deeper into his body. Techno's voice joined Phil's, chanting in a language that sounded much more his own.

Suddenly, for Ghostbur, everything was bright. His body felt light, much lighter than it had before, and something in his chest pulled him to move on. He thought back to the looks on Phil's and Techno's face and decided to comply.

For Phil and Techno, the dust had started to swirl, crawling up to Ghostbur's feet before the room was filled with light. Phil yelped and shielded his eyes, Techno mirroring his actions with a grunt of his own. It felt like an eternity before the light settled, and they were able to look.

There was Wilbur, standing in the center of the room. Not Ghostbur, with his sweater, but… Wilbur. Dusty and without his trenchcoat but oh so  _ alive _ . Phil's breath caught in his chest.

Wilbur looked down at his hands. He flexed them, looking unsteady on his feet. He looks up, seeing Techno and Phil, seeing them in person and suddenly realizing that he's  _ alive _ \--

Wilbur's eyes fill with tears, and he drops to the ground.

His arms wrap tight around himself, violent sobs wracking his body. He falls forward, face hitting the wood painfully. Phil moves to step forward, but he's stopped by Techno. Something feels  _ terribly  _ wrong. It makes Techno's tail sway.

Wilbur rips one of his hands out from under him, gripping at his hair far too tight.

"Why would you do this to me?" He sobs, and Phil makes a pained sound.

"I was in so much pain! So much! I finally found rest! I finally found peace!" Wilbur's hand goes limp, falling onto the wood. Slowly, he drags himself up, and he looks like a wreak. Phil is sickenly reminded of the day he arrived on the SMP.

"That was the one bit of happiness I've felt in  _ such  _ a long time. Why would you take that? I hurt so much now," Wilbur says, and the tears haven't stopped. Guilt finds itself a comfortable, terrible home in Techno's chest.

"I can't--I can't do that again," Wilbur sobs, drawing in on himself. "Please, please, I--I can't-"

Techno rushed forward, dropping to his knees and pulling Wilbur into a tight hug. Phil has already heard what Wilbur was about to beg for once; he doesn't need to hear it again. Wilbur goes stiff under his hold.

"God, don't  _ say  _ things like that, Wilbur," Techno says, pulling his brother closer, almost impossibly so. The tears that form in his eyes are something he'll only admit to the people in the room.

Phil chokes on a sob, falling to his knees and pulling his kids into his arms. His tears are almost as obvious as Wilbur's, formed from all the relief and sorrow and grief he held onto for all this time. Wilbur shudders under his family's hold and finally wraps his arms around them with a grip that could rival even Techno's.

The ritual ends with a broken family curled in a ball on the floor, crying their pain out to the world. Wishing for a time where things were simpler, and a father didn't have to worry about his children begging him for death, where brothers could have a goodbye, and there was no blood soaked into anybody's conscience.

The sun rises, and they have to face the day, one broken sob at a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *starts beatboxing*

**Author's Note:**

> eyyy join the discord and cry with me:
> 
> https://discord.gg/7VymgKAVWR


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